


A change in the plan

by Higgystar



Series: Instinct [2]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gen, InstinctVerse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:32:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2040996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl is ready to present as an alpha. He's got his whole life planned out for it and he and Merle are pleased when they can smell the change is going to be happening soon. </p><p>But sometimes plans have to change.</p><p>A/N: A mix of a prompt from nonormynolife.tumblr.com and some ideas I've been playing with for this verse :3</p>
            </blockquote>





	A change in the plan

_Presenting: The time in a young adult’s life when their hormones alter and they present as one of the three hierarchies. Presenting can occur between the ages of 8-16 and generally happens earlier in females than males and at the start of puberty. In some cultures presenting is a celebrated event, a sign of coming of age and the journey into adulthood beginning. Many believe they can tell what they will present as before the time, but though educated guesses can be made there is no way of knowing for certain what hierarchy they will be until the individual has presented._

“One day I’m gonna be an alpha like you Merle, and I’m gonna kick your ass.” Daryl huffs, squirming out from beneath where Merle has him pinned and dusting off his knees when he stands.

The Georgia sun bakes the ground beneath them, what could pass as a front lawn for their home nothing but dry grass and dust that they wrestle in and practicing pouncing. It’s not a fair fight, Merle is eleven years older and a fully-grown alpha in his own right whereas Daryl hasn’t even presented yet. But it doesn’t stop their fun and if nothing else Daryl is determined to be prepared for when it finally does happen to him.

“Keep dreaming little brother.” Merle chuckles, ruffling his hair a little before grabbing him around the waist, dragging him back down to the floor for another tackle. “You ain’t never gonna kick my ass.”

Daryl yelps at the move, caught between laughing and growling playfully as he tries to get his brother back. “Been practising ain’t I?” He huffs out, pinned back in the dirt and glaring up at the cloudless sky as Merle flops beside him. It feels like he’s been waiting forever for it to happen and no amount of wishing for it was making it happen any quicker. “It’s gotta happen soon right?” He asks Merle, rolling onto his front to watch his big brother trace patterns in the dirt.

“Won’t be long little brother, can smell the change coming up on you.” Merle shrugs as if he’s not interested but Daryl knows he’s been waiting for this as long as he has. Shifting closer he moves to share scents with Merle, butting heads with his brother and burying himself in Merle’s alpha scent. “Next couple of days at the latest.” Merle chuckles, shoving him back a little but not hard enough to really mean it.

Grinning to himself Daryl rolls onto his back, staring up at the sky above them. At thirteen years old he feels ready to present and if Merle can smell it then it really is going to happen soon. He can’t wait, as soon as he’s an alpha everything would change and he could show the world just how tough he was. “Then we’ll both be alphas and you can teach me everything I need to know about it.” He nods, looking up to Merle and unable to stop smiling to his brother.

“Damn right little brother.” And like that Merle is tackling him again, the pair of the scuffling in the dirt until they’re covered in it, coughing on the particles and laughing themselves stupid when Daryl’s pinned down again. “And when you’re old enough we’re gonna leave this shit hole, go find ourselves some nice betas and get ourselves a pack of our own. Screw what the old man thinks, if we want a pack then we’ll have one and be the strongest pack in Georgia.”

Daryl nods, eager for the future to hurry up and come to them both. Their father was an asshole, someone who deemed himself a rogue that got saddled with kids somewhere down the line. He’d never wanted a pack nor and mate, but somehow it had happened and their father spent everyday telling them how much he despised it all. Daryl had always wanted a pack, he’d heard stories at school of the neighbouring packs, some of the kids in his class were even packmates and yet all he had was Merle.

Not that he minded it of course, Merle was great, but sometimes he wasn’t always there. And when he wasn’t there it meant their dad didn’t have another alpha challenging him and as an unpresented fledgling, he was his father’s favourite target. He was used to the hits, the claiming bites and growls he got at home and he’d learnt from a young age that it was better not to mention the longing for a pack in his father’s presence. In fact it was easier not to mention the ‘p’ word at all.

Still it never stopped the longing within him. The want to have a pack of his own, one he and Merle would imagine at night when they shoved their beds together and slept close like packmates despite their father’s dislike of the idea. Tonight is no different and as the sun sets and they curl up together Daryl tugs the sheets over their heads, sharing thoughts of betas and leading a pack in the dark. Merle talks about getting him a bike of his own and they could travel, their pack constantly mobile until they found a nice territory to claim and they could breed to their heart’s content. It’s a dream they share, a pack shared between brothers was commonplace and Daryl knew he and Merle could have everything they’d ever wanted if he’d just hurry up and present as an alpha already.

It feels as if the next few days crawl by at a snail’s pace and Daryl hates every second of it. He tries to keep busy, he tries to focus on schoolwork but all he can think about it that he’s almost there. The whole class can smell it on him, everyone’s whispering behind their hands about how he’s going to be a brutal alpha just like every other male in his family line, but they’re stupid. He’d be a good alpha, not brutal or forceful, but firm and strong. That’s why they couldn’t have a pack here, these idiots in their town had already decided their fate.

Merle isn’t home that day and his father is all riled up from his scent altering but not quite settling fully yet. It makes him angry, but then everything makes their dad angry and between the scent of alpha ordering him around and stale beer, Daryl ends up heading to bed early with a headache and a prayer for it to hurry up.

When he wakes up the next morning it takes a moment for him to stir properly. Merle still isn’t home, probably spent the night screwing some beta at their place and forgot to crawl home in the early hours. Rubbing at his eyes he curls back into the sheets groaning a little to himself and itching at the scent glands in his neck. They feel a little sore, as if he’s been bitten by something during the night and he feels uncomfortable in his own skin for a moment as he tries to wake up fully.

Around him is a weird scent, one he’s not used to and he knows there’s no one else at home apart from himself. His father’s scent is stale but he’s not here, probably out gambling or something and Merle is definitely not home. Sitting up a little he rubs at his face and that’s when he catches it. The scent is coming from the scent glands in his palms, and he presses his nose to a hand for a moment, taking in a heavy breath and unable to stop the whine at what he smells there. Grabbing the sheets he checks them all, sniffling every single inch of them, praying for there to have been a mistake. He can’t smell his own neck but the scent is emanating from there as well and all over himself.

Daryl feels sick.

Everything is wrong and he can’t get his mind to work right now. Instead he grabs the bed sheets and scrambles out to shove them in the washer, uncaring if he got yelled at afterwards for wasting water and just wanting the smell gone. There’s been some mistake and he just had to fix it that was all. It was all a mistake and he could fix it if he was just smart enough.

His dad’s room is out of bounds but he doesn’t care and barges in, stumbling over the empty bottles on the floor and staggering to the old vanity dresser that used to be his mothers. He doesn’t pause to read any of the labels on the bottles or cans, he just grabs them all, olds perfumes from before she’d died, aftershave for when his father wanted to catch a beta’s attention, deodorant, body spray, body lotion, whatever he can find that’s scented he grabs and carries through to the bathroom.

It’s all over him, this horrible, clamouring scent. He hates it and he doesn’t even bother undressing before turning on the shower and jumping in. His pyjamas would need to be washed anyway and the washer was stuffed full of his bed sheets so he was only making things easier. Under the spray he grabs whatever he can lay his hands on, squirting the overly perfumed oils and lotions over his body, uncaring of getting soap on his clothing and just wanting it all gone. He’s panicking, scrubbing furiously over his own skin and hair, scratching at the scent glands on his neck until he’s drawing blood and not caring.

It hurts but not as much as this scent hurts his head. He’s shaking, the water’s turned cold but he barely notices when it all collapses in on him in a wave of understanding. The tears wrack through him until he’s choking on sobs, sinking to the floor of the old bathtub and curling in on himself as the water continues raining down on him. It doesn’t erase the scent, and neither do the various perfumes he’d poured over himself.

Daryl had presented as an omega.

He’s not sure how much later it is when he hears the front door open but he doesn’t bother looking up from the puddle of freezing cold water he’s still sitting in. The water is barely a trickle now, the pressure in the old pipes giving out after a while and leaving him in soaked pyjamas with the steady drip of water falling onto his head. He doesn’t need to say a word about what’s happened, it’s all written in the air around him and he’s not sure he could explain it all anyway.

The footfalls aren’t heavy, but they’re slow, steady as they make their way to the bathroom and Daryl is so relieved to know it’s Merle and not their father even if he didn’t want any company at all. He doesn’t look up as the door is opened and Merle steps inside the tiny bathroom, he can smell his brother’s confusion and worry in the air as it mixes with his own scent. Merle moves slowly, as if he’s a frightened deer that’s going to startle and bolt at any minute if he’s not careful.

Fingers reach out above his head to shut off the shower completely, leaving him shivering and feeling even worse than before now there’s no steady dripping noise to focus on. Merle kneels on the floor besides the bathtub and reaches out to him, cupping his face to make them face each other and looking him over, even though the worst injury he’s got is the scratches on his neck from himself. Just seeing his brother’s face makes him crumple again and his chokes on a sob as he tries to hide away.

“M-Merle I’m so sorry.”

His brother is there, climbing in to the soaking wet bathtub that really can’t fit an adult and a teenager in comfortably and yanking him into a harsh hug. Daryl can’t help but sob again, burying himself in his brother’s scent and just wanting to take everything back to the way it was before. It wasn’t fair, he was meant to be an alpha like every other male in their family and now he’d gone and fucked it all up. He’d screwed up everything and not only for himself, but for Merle too.

They were never going to have a pack, he was never going to be his big brother’s second or get to ride with him and have their pack following and get to have a future together. He was nothing now. Nothing but a dirty stinking omega. Someone to be used, someone to be kept, someone who couldn’t do anything for themselves because they were so weak.

He was nothing, nobody. Just some bitch omega.

Merle becomes harder after he presents and Daryl knows it’s all his fault. Their father almost kills him when he gets home and smells him, there’s a lot of yelling, cussing, broken bottles and thrown punches. He tries to help, he tries to be something he’s not but it doesn’t work and both he can Merle pay for it in scars that will last a lifetime and a claiming bite each that he knows will bruise easily. The next few days are tense about the house and Daryl doesn’t know if he can live with it if this was going to be his life every single day.

He doesn’t go to school anymore. Honestly he doesn’t leave the house much anymore because he doesn’t want anyone else to know. Daryl isn’t sure if it’s his shame, Merle’s, his father’s or all three of them mixed together that makes him housebound, but it all ends in the same outcome. He doesn’t leave anymore. The first few weeks Daryl barely leaves his room he’s so unsure of himself and his new position in life and Merle seems to understand where he’s coming from.

There’s no need to leave anyway, it wasn’t safe for him to be around anyone else anymore. He was rare. Omegas only made up 5% of the population anyway and a male one was even rarer, making him wanted desperately by any pack that knew of his existence. So it was easier to pretend not to exist.

Daryl doesn’t complain because what good would it do? He couldn’t change his place in the hierarchy and talking about it only ever made his father snarl and clap him about the face until he shut up. Merle spends more days out of the house, comes home angry in the evening and holds him tighter at night. At first he doesn’t understand it at all but he doesn’t protest because Merle was an alpha and what right did he have to speak against him?

It hurts to know he was never going to amount to anything. It felt as if his future had been ripped away from him altogether and left him unsure of what the hell he was to do next. He knew what he was, omegas were weak, omegas needed protection from others and were treasured by packs because of their special breeding abilities. Days are spent pacing the floor of his room, hiding beneath sheets, peering out of the window and wondering why the world had cursed him in such a way.

Their dad uses his status as ammunition in their fights as he gets older, still feeling very much like a fledgling but growing into a proper omega as the years pass. There’s threats spat out against him when he gets in the way, calls for him to move his bitch ass, or to start being useful or else. Daryl’s not sure he wants to know what the or else is.

It takes a while but he gets the nerve up to go and hunt, he still needed to feed himself after all and there was barely any chance of anyone meeting him in the woods. It’s one of the very few times he actually feels sort of happy, when he can pretend to be something he’s not and hunt for food like an alpha would for his pack. He’s too old for make believe, but sometimes he’ll imagine that he’s bringing his catch home for a pack of his own and that they would praise him and love him as if he were an alpha.

But he’s not and it only becomes too apparent when he hits sixteen. Merle is back from a stint in prison at the time and Daryl’s really not sure what he would have done if he hadn’t been out. It’s just a normal day for him really, he’s been hiding out in the woods for most of it, just getting out of the house and away from his father until he needs to return home.

Their dad is in his usual chair, beer in hand and snarling at some stupid game that’s on. Merle’s dividing something he doesn’t want to know into little baggies when he steps in the door and in a second they’re both watching him, their interest solely on him until he’s feeling self-conscious and running his fingers through his hair. He’s used to being ignored, so suddenly having them both looking over him makes him want to bolt but it’s his father’s voice that stops him.

“Smells like someone can finally make himself useful around here.” He chuckles and Daryl’s not exactly sure what the asshole is talking about but he hunches down into himself a little more, trying to smell whatever the old bastard can smell on him. “’Bout time.”

“You need to shut the hell up old man.” Merle snarls, actually fucking snarls and like that Daryl’s far beyond being on edge, he has no idea what’s going on but he knows it’s got everything to do with him. As quietly as he can he edges towards Merle and hopes their father won’t take offense.

It doesn’t work and the game is forgotten, their father crushing the empty beer can in his hand and tossing it aside as he glares at the pair of them. “You watch your mouth boy, till you grow a pair I’m the first around here and that makes him mine to do with what I want.” Automatically Daryl ducks his head, knowing his place, knowing his rank and hating that beside him Merle doesn’t make a damned move to submit.

Instead Merle gets to his feet, shoving aside his work and taking a step forward with a growl. “You ain’t gonna do shit with him you hear me?”

“Boy’s growing Merle, can’t stop that.” Their father chuckles, leering at him, looking him up and down and Daryl doesn’t care how pathetic it is when he moves to hide behind Merle fully. “About time he started earning his keep and there ain’t many ways a bitch can do that. He’d fetch a pretty price now he ain’t a fledgling no more, untouched too, could set us up for life.”

And like that Daryl knows what they’re talking about and presses against Merle’s back with a whine, hating when his brother shoves him back and doesn’t take his eyes off their father. “I said you ain’t gonna do shit to him except leave him the hell alone. You touch one hair on his fucking head and I swear to God I’mma take you down.”

“Careful there boy, sounds like you’re challenging me.” Their dad is snarling, standing from his chair, fists clenched, looking pissed as hell and twice as mad.

“Maybe I am.” Merle snarls back and Daryl can barely breathe he’s so worried. Merle had stood up to their dad before sure, but not like this, not in a way that could change everything.

There’s a quiet laugh and their dad stops snarling for a moment, still tense but clearly not afraid of his eldest son and his posturing. “Maybe you should step back before you get yourself hurt, and your bitch brother too.” He nods towards Daryl and he takes the moment to grab at Merle’s arm, afraid and willing to admit it.

“Merle please…”

“Shut up omega!” His brother snaps, turning to him with teeth bared and it’s enough to make him stumble backwards, not only afraid of the situation but for the first time in his life, afraid of Merle too. “Get your ass in that bedroom and stay there. You lock the door you hear me and you don’t come out until I say so.” Merle snarls in his face and his body moves before he can think, obeying the alpha immediately and ignoring as his father continues the fight even as he leaves the scene.

“Don’t you dare go ordering him around like you fucking own him boy. I’m first in this family, and you need to respect that and respect my property!”

“He ain’t your property, he ain’t no one’s property you sick son of a bitch!”

Slamming the door shut he bolts it quickly, darting over to his bed and wrapping himself in the sheets, smothering himself in the scent of Merle and what he’d thought to be safety up until now. Covering his ears he remains there, hating himself, hating the noises that vibrate through the house and the knowledge that it was all his fault.

Merle had never called him by his hierarchy before, never in the three years since he’d presented had Merle ever called him by anything other than his name. Now he had and it just made everything worse. He was nothing more than an omega, the lowest status, the lowest ranked member of anything or any pack that could ever be and now he’d made Merle do something stupid just to defend him because he couldn’t defend himself.

The fight goes on for a while and the third time he removes his hands from his ears to listen there’s no words anymore, just snarls and growls amidst the hits and kicks. He can hear them really going for it and a part of him debates opening the window and just running. He could survive in the woods, he’d done it before when he was even younger and this time he wouldn’t even try to come home, he’d just stay out there where there was no pack or status or hierarchy and he could do what he wanted.

Except Merle had ordered him to stay here and Merle was an alpha and he had to obey.

When things go silent he doesn’t know if it’s better or worse, but the knot of worry in his stomach tightens when it goes on for a long while. There’s the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut, a car starts and then so does the bike and he creeps to the window to see both his father’s truck and Merle’s bike leave down the dirt road. He wonders if they’ve abandoned him for good, getting rid of the weak link in the family and were going to wait for him to die of his own accord before coming back.

Swallowing back the fear he sinks back to his bed, wrapping himself in Merle’s sheets once again and watching the door, listening for someone to come home. He can’t leave, Merle had told him not to move until he came and got him and so he’d do as he was told.

He’s fallen asleep by the time there’s a knock at the door, the sun has set, the room is pitch black and the knot of anxiety tightens in his stomach.

“Open up little brother, it’s me.”

A part of him is angry at Merle for doing this to him, but the rest of him is still so relieved he darts forward to open the door for him. His brother looks awful, bruised, cut, there’s blood and scrapes all over him and Daryl hates when he knows each mark is because of him and him alone. He doesn’t move forward, instead he lets his gaze fall to his feet and he fucking hates the guilt that swells up at the sight of Merle so broken because of him.

“Ain’t your fault.” Merle murmurs but they both know its bullshit. He’s heard the lie so many times by now that he simply shrugs, moving aside so Merle can come in to their shared room and lie back on his side of their bed to get some rest. “Mean it little brother, bastard had it coming.”

Cocking his head to the side he wonders what Merle is on about when he smells it. Merle’s scent is different, it smells thicker, more pertinent and stronger. It’s strange so he moves closer, pressing himself into Merle’s neck to smell him properly and huffing a little when Merle yanks him closer to scent him properly and shares their scents. “You smell weird…” He mutters, pulling back and squinting in the dim light to look at the skin over Merle’s neck. Reaching out a finger he goes to trace over the bare flesh, but gets snarled at, yanking his hand away and whining in apology for daring to touch an alpha’s neck.

He should know better, but he’s still so unsure of what the hell he’s meant to be and how to be it. Instead he simply curls besides Merle, burying himself in the stronger scent of his brother and not complaining when Merle begins scenting him again, running his hands over his lower back. “Need you to stay here tomorrow alright? Don’t leave the house, don’t even leave this room until I say you can.”

“But why Merle?” He asks, unsure, worried and wondering exactly when their dad was going to take his revenge for the fight he’d caused today.

“Because I said so and I’m your alpha that’s why.”

Daryl doesn’t ask again but he gets his answers the next day when he sees the dark bruise of a claiming bite on his father’s neck and Merle shoves a bagful of heat suppressants into his arms without a word.

He takes the medication as directed for the week before stopping, following the instructions on the pack to the letter and making sure to mark the dates off on a self made calendar. They don’t talk about it ever, their father continues to make idle threats when Merle is around but he can deal with it so long as Merle still comes home and fights to remain his first.

When he’s eighteen Merle starts getting into real trouble and one night it seems as if all the pressure of being his alpha finally gets to Merle and he snaps. It had been nothing out of the usual for them, dad was out and they were watching shit TV and drinking warm beers to pass the time when Merle had come out with it. “Been thinking you need to toughen the hell up.”

“I’m tough Merle.” He scoffs, swallowing down the rest of his beer and thinking nothing of the conversation until Merle knocks the can from his hand and across the room, making sure he’s got his full attention.

“Not tough enough.” Merle huffs and Daryl can see that he’s on something right now. He hates when Merle is on something. “We’ve got to get you to grow out of this prissy omega shit. Need you to ignore everything your body is telling you and get you able to defend yourself cause I might not always be here. What you gonna do if I ain’t huh? What if he sells you? You gonna go belly up and roll over for the first alpha that scents you?” Merle jabs at his chest, growling a little behind his words and that makes him feel on edge even if it’s not directed at him.

Shrugging a little he tries to shove him off, wanting some space and not surprised when Merle won’t give it to him. “Ain’t gonna happen Merle, I ain’t gonna go find no alpha and I could fight them off anyway.” He’s fairly sure he’s built up enough muscle to give a good try anyway, it would just be the thought of it he’d have to fight. Omegas didn’t attack alphas, it just wasn’t right.

“What if you’re in heat huh?” Merle asks and that makes him flush. They’ve never spoken about his heats. He’d never had a real one before, as soon as it was coming on he’d take his medication and wait until it was over, he’d never even felt the heat beneath his skin before. “Heat high little bitch like you ain’t gonna want to fight them off and that’s the problem. Your body is omega, we can’t change none of that shit, but this up here?” Merle taps at his head, poking his finger hard into his forehead until he’s forced back a little. “We can get you thinking like an alpha and that’ll give you a chance.”

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch Merle.” He snarls a little, willing to show it and trying not to automatically back down when Merle growls back, intimidating and all alpha in his face. It’s difficult and everything inside of himself is telling him to back down, to submit, to get low and whine in supplication because he’d dared to challenge an alpha. Instead he manages to keep a quiet snarl and only duck his head a little.

“You’re gonna be the world’s botch little brother if you don’t start fucking trying.” Merle snaps and like that there’s a smack across the face, he’s whimpering a little and Merle is laughing at him. Calling him a pussy, a no good little whore who wasn’t worth anything other than the cunt between his legs that needed filling. Merle doesn’t stop, calling him every name under the sun, a whore, a slut, all of it despite them both knowing he’d never done anything with anyone before. It all builds into anger and upset and in a moment of pure rage he tackles Merle to the floor.

The fight is short, but he makes sure to hit hard, trying to wound and hurt Merle as much as he’s been hurt, hating himself, hating his status and hating that every word Merle had said was what he worried about every day. He doesn’t get the upper hand, he doesn’t get to roll over and whine for forgiveness either, instead Merle keeps the fight going, not letting him submit, not letting him be an omega and not letting him give up.

It’s the first of many of Merle’s lessons over the next couple of years and when he’s twenty-one and Merle is in prison he’s grateful for every one of them. Their dad is off screwing some beta bitch he kept bringing back home every so often, and he’s returning home from a hunt when he smells them. There are rogue alphas in their house.

His gut tells him to run back into the woods and return later, to maybe get to a payphone and call the cops or something. But he can’t afford to draw attention to himself, not without Merle around for backup and their father Christ knows where. He was an omega on his own but there wasn’t any pack that was ever going to back him up so he had to do this himself.

The bikes tell him they’re from Merle’s crowd, probably some punks that he’d stiffed in a sale or something looking for some revenge or more of his stash. Taking a deep breath he grips the crossbow tighter, keeping it ready to fire as he enters the house and finds them ransacking the place. “The fuck you assholes think you’re doing?” He snarls and tries to keep the angry grimace on his face when they all cackle around him like a bunch of hyenas.

“Holy shit boys.”

“I smell me an omega.”

“That Dixon’s brother? Shit I didn’t know he was a bitch.”

The three of them don’t even look phased by his weapon and it takes a lot of guts for him not to drop it and run. They’re leering at him, looking over his body and one even dares to lick his lips as he looks over him. It makes him want to shiver, he grips the bow tighter and aims it at his chest. “Said what the fuck you think you’re doing?” He snarls again and this time they look a little confused at his attitude. Good he didn’t want them knowing what he was going to do.

He wasn’t no damned heat high little bitch that was going to bend over and let them take him every which way they wanted just because they’d had the luck of presenting as an alpha. Fuck them.

They look a little off kilter and Daryl tenses when one takes a step towards him, hand out to try and get him to lower the bow. He doesn’t. “Hey man we just came to get what’s ours, your brother owes us.”

Baring his teeth he remembers every move that Merle had ever made, he remembers the night Merle had claimed their father for him and saved his ass from being sold because he’d started his first heat. “Well I don’t owe you shit, get the hell off my property now.”

“Your property?” Another one snorts, his body loose, not tense in worry, looking as if there was no threat at all in the room. “Omegas can’t own shit son, put that bow down and how about you give us what we need?” Again he licks his lips, making a soft growl in the back of his throat and it’s enough to get Daryl taking half a step back.

Seeing the smallest sign of retreat is enough for them and the alphas all take a step closer, seeing his strength flagging an he knows it’s now or never. If he didn’t do this now then they would take what the wanted from him and he’d never be anything other than a bitch omega that took it like a whole to pay his brother’s debts. Snarling once more he gives a final warning and when they step closer he fires the bolt into the lip licker’s foot.

The asshole howls, the other alpha’s startle and he tosses aside the bow to grab his buck knife from his belt, holding it before him and falling into a defensive stance. They seem lost, unsure of what to do about an omega fighting back and he moves on that fear, snarling and snapping at them, darting close enough to get them flinching and scrabbling for the door, bolting for their bikes with one hopping and howling in pain.

Daryl remains in the doorway for a while, watching their bikes kick up dust as they left and snarling to their retreating forms as if anyone other than himself could hear them. He’d done it, he’d defended his territory from rogues and managed to save himself from anything happening. A swell of pride starts in his chest, followed by a ball of anxiety over daring to cross such social boundaries.

He spends the next three days wearing one of Merle’s shirts to make himself feel a little safer and watches out the windows with a shotgun the rest of the time.

His life continues in much the same vein, spending most of his time in the woods or at home, not interacting with others unless he has to and defending himself as best he could from anyone that dared even look close enough to know he was an omega. Sometimes Merle is there and when he is despite everything he’s been trying to suppress within himself he spends the nights buried in his brother’s arms and he figures Merle must enjoy it too because he doesn’t push away. When Merle isn’t there things are tougher but the world didn’t stop just because Merle was away, so he continued, he survived and after everything he’d been through he’d thought he could handle anything.

Then the dead had stopped staying dead and he’d been terrified.

Merle had been there, thank God, and everything had been a hundred miles an hour. He remembers the news cutting, emergency broadcasts from everywhere calling for all packs to remain together and to head to the safety zone nearest to them. Even from their house distanced from everyone else he could hear the screams around them, the scent of death was thick in the air and the years of trying to be an alpha left him, leaving him feeling more alone and unsure of what to do than ever.

He remembers clinging to Merle like a lifeline, helping pack everything they could and not even protesting when Merle had grabbed his stash to bring with them. At the time he’d just been so relieved to have Merle there that he’d have taken him high as a kite so long as he was there. The heat suppressants had been shoved into his pack, along with a few of Merle’s shirts that were practically his now and a good few rounds of ammo. Merle was frantic, grabbing weapons, calling for him to hurry his ass up and get moving before he dragged him into the truck.

It’s stupid. The dead were eating people, he’d never liked their house or where they lived and yet now when it came to leaving it all behind and heading somewhere else, he felt lost. Despite everything this place was home, and it was safe for him. There were no alphas or betas here, no packs or scents of anything other than themselves and he knew how to deal with that. Out there was something else, something new he’d never dealt with before and didn’t know how to cope with.

When Merle grabs his hand and drags him away he doesn’t know if he’s grateful or resentful of that.

Merle drives, of course Merle drives because he needs to have control when things get stressful, it’s an alpha thing and it’s an omega thing that he’s willing to be led. He’s grateful to be led. He likes to be led. It’s not something he tells Merle, but it’s true. Right now the years of pretending to be an alpha don’t mean shit, because he’s not an alpha, he’s a fucking omega and he’s terrified and doesn’t know what to do.

Pressing closer to Merle he doesn’t care what his brother thinks of him when they’re on their way to Atlanta. He can feel himself trembling and really he can’t help it, not when he’s spent practically all his life hiding away from most of the population and now here they were heading for what was left of it. Chewing on his thumb he stays pressed against Merle’s side, trying to keep back the panic that consumes him and focus on the fact that they were surviving.

He’s been surviving his whole life, this is what he was good at so what was so different about this? He’s got Merle and weapons and he knew how to hunt and survive without the basic amenities of a home, so what if they were heading towards a survivor camp full or other people and packs and he only had his brother for protection against every single other person in the whole of Atlanta. Packs and rogues, alphas and betas all crammed and packed in to one places under so much stress and panicking because dead people weren’t staying dead and losing their morals and he might be the only fucking omega left alive…

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay baby brother.”

Daryl doesn’t realise Merle has stopped the truck until he’s pressed into his brother’s neck, breathing deeply and losing himself in the scent of alpha and safety there. The panic had come on so suddenly he hadn’t realised he’d been hyperventilating until Merle had grabbed him. It was just all too much and happening so suddenly and he wasn’t sure what the hell he was meant to do anymore. All his life he’d been hiding away to protect himself and now he was walking into the lion’s den and practically sticking his head into their mouths.

There were going to be so many packs there and rogue alphas and people there, fledglings, kits, adults, everyone in the whole of Georgia would be heading for safety and where they were. They’d be able to smell his status in a second and there was no way everyone would back down just because of Merle being there. Sure there was respect when an omega was claimed, but stress and panic meant the rules changed and who knew how people would react?

Everything his father has ever threatened him with is at the forefront of his mind, making him knot his fingers in Merle’s shirt and bury himself closer into his scent. He doesn’t want to be a pack’s bitch, he doesn’t want to be a breeding bitch or used like some whore by whoever could fight the hardest for him. At no point does he want to be touched by an alpha or bred with, or mated with or forced to bear a litter for someone else. “Don’t want to do this Merle.” He mutters, burying his nose in Merle’s shirt and rubbing the fabric over his top lip.

“We’ve gotta do what we’ve gotta do to keep safe baby brother.” Merle mumbles in his ear, stroking over the back of his hair lightly and letting him act like a needy omega bitch if he needs to. It’s pathetic, it’s sad, he’s a grown man acting like a fucking kitling and clinging to his big brother as if Merle was going to save him from the big bad world. “And I ain’t gonna leave you okay? Gonna keep you safe and make sure no one lays a hand on you, you hear?”

He nods, and when Merle pulls back he tries to act a bit more stable than he feels, wiping at his face and bringing his crossbow into his lap. It makes him feel more able to defend himself against everyone else, even if he was only an omega. They continue driving towards Atlanta, stopping off a few times along the way, taking down walkers, checking through supplies and making sure the truck wasn’t going to give out on them. Throughout the journey Daryl checks on his heat suppressants multiple times, counting them over and over, mentally adding up the heats he can get through on their supplies.

There’s only a few months worth and that scares him a little, even when Merle promises to get him some more and that there would be some in Atlanta anyway. He’s not so sure but he doesn’t bring it up. Honestly the thought doesn’t cross his mind until they get close to Atlanta and stuck in a line of traffic. The red lights trail on for miles, he can’t even see the city from where they are and it looks as if everyone around them are as unsure as to what’s going on as they are.

It’s not a good sign and being surrounded by so many unmoving vehicles filled with packs and families makes him feel completely on edge. Merle offers him a cigarette and he tries to focus on the feel of the smoke in his lungs and not the knowledge that the smell of the cigarette isn’t enough to cover his scent. The truck must stink of a panicked omega and it wouldn’t be long until alphas were clawing at the sides to try and claim him for their own.

They sit for what feels like forever, a few hours at least as the night wears on and more cars pull up behind them until he can’t see the end of the line of traffic. His thumbnail is chewed to fuck, they’ve smoked through an entire pack of cigarettes and he can see that the stress of it all if making Merle twitchy and probably want to take something to make himself feel better. He’s glad that Merle doesn’t but he gets a little twitchy when his brother opens the window and calls down some random alpha to find out what the hell is going on.

Turns out no one knows, and that gets Merle more on edge than before and him hating how he doesn’t have something to work towards or work out how to deal with. When Merle opens the door he can feel his heart jump into his throat and he grabs at his brother with a small whine that he can’t help letting slip. “Gonna try find out what the hell is going on here. Stay in the truck.” Merle tells him and for just a split second he remembers every single lesson.

“Hell no Merle you ain’t leaving me here!” He snarls, kicking open his door, grabbing his bow and walking round to get beside his brother. Around him he can feel the looks of other people over his body, they can smell him, they can smell his panic and there’s a hushed whisper around them that suddenly has him self-conscious and shifting a little closer to Merle. “Don’t you fucking leave me here with them Merle.”

His brother huffs, but gives in, nodding for him to follow as they walk between the cars, ignoring the stares and whispers that follow them the whole way. The sounds of chaos gets worse the further they move into the woods, towards the city and the sound of choppers and the smell of death. Daryl makes sure to stay close to Merle, his crossbow kept close even if they haven’t seen a dead person in miles.

Below them is the shadow of the city, what few lights that are still on are searchlights on the choppers and Daryl feels himself take a step closer to Merle’s side when more fly overhead. It doesn’t look like a safe zone down there and he’s about to ask what the hell is going on when an explosion rocks the ground they stand upon. Atlanta is engulfed in fire, lit up in a second as the smoke billows up into the air above them. People start screaming and move in a surge, packs finding their alphas and heading back up the hill to the cars, scared and lost as chaos reigns supreme.

People bump into him and he hears Merle snarl at them but no one notices, there’s too much going on and the sudden removal of the safe zone they were heading for makes a chill of fear run through him. Alphas are howling, kitlings are calling for their parents and he feels as lost as all of them as people trip over each other to try and get away from the sight of the city crumbling.

For a second he panics, grabbing on to Merle’s shirt as they move back to the truck and not daring to let go as their plans go up in smoke, literally. People are getting into their cars, some driving off erratically, some alphas are fighting over nothing, betas are trying to calm them all down and through it all he’s lost and trying to fight the want to just run home and hope for the best. “What’re we gonna do Merle?” He asks when they reach the truck and Merle doesn’t turn the engine on.

“Give me a minute, I’m thinking.” His brother growls, hitting at the steering wheel as vehicles moves away from them, some turning back on themselves to go the way they came and others just honking their horns in frustration. Around them people are scattering, everyone turning to alphas for answers and following the frivolous leads that people seem to have. Daryl sinks lower in his seat and chews on his lip, clutching the crossbow tighter and hoping the world doesn’t completely crumble around them.

“Listen up!” Comes a voice from before them and there’s an alpha standing on the roof of a car, waving his arms for people’s attention and damn it all Daryl can’t help but listen to the cop uniform wearing prick. “If we’re going to get through this we need to stick together. My pack and I are heading up to the quarry just down the road a ways. There’s water there, we can make a camp, fences, a perimeter to secure. We can protect each other from these things if we work together.” There are some murmurs from around them and Daryl can smell the determination on this alpha cop. It’s stupid but he can’t stop watching him even as his stomach clenches in worry. “So if you’re with me then get in line and follow me!”

Around them is a chorus of agreement, some cars honk their horns and pull around behind the cop’s car when he gets out of line, others swear viciously in their direction but soon enough there’s a small convoy of vehicles heading back down the road to the quarry. Daryl’s about to ask what the hell their own plan was when Merle starts the truck and again that knot of anxiety flares up.

“You can’t be serious Merle!”

“Got any better ideas right now?” His brother growls, teeth bared and looming over him, getting in his space and automatically he’s backing down lower in his seat. “Didn’t think so. The cop’s right anyways. Quarry means water, means good hunting and heck it don’t look like we’re gonna have much choice but to join a pack if we’re going to survive this. Might as well join one that’s offering.” Merle murmurs to himself and Daryl knows any protests he has will be ignored when Merle is this on edge.

It doesn’t stop him trying though, unable to stop the fears of being pinned down and stolen by some pack, used like a whore for their own wants and treated like nothing more than a piece of ass. His father’s words echo in his head, Merle had grit his teeth and isn’t listening to him as he follows the convoy of vehicles and soon enough he’s clinging onto his bow with all of his strength to stop from having another panic attack. “Please Merle, let’s just go home.” He tries one last time as they crest the path to the quarry and join the rest of the parked vehicles, able to see the other people getting out to start setting up a camp under the cop alpha’s watch. “It can’t be that bad Merle, it just can’t.”

“They just fucking bombed Atlanta Daryl, what the hell do you think is going to happen to everything else huh? You think you’re going to hide beneath your blankets and wake up in the morning to find this has all blown over? Ain’t gonna happen, so shut your mouth omega!”

That makes him shut up and when Merle leaves the truck to help mark out territory and set up tents for people he remains curled up in the truck around his bow. Merle hadn’t called him that in years, at least not when he was sober, and now he just knows everyone else heard it to. They could smell it but now it was obvious and shouted to the world. Not a person, just a dumb omega, never had a heat, never finished school, can’t protect himself, can’t protect anyone else and nothing more than some easy fuck for the alphas.

He stays in the truck, uncaring of everyone moving around him and questioning why he was so antisocial. The packs move around the camp, intermingling, introducing themselves and alphas size each other up. He knows Merle is probably out there huffing and growling, making his space at the top of the ladder and letting all the betas know he’s single and available to them. Scrabbling for his backpack he counts through the heat suppressants twice over before grabbing one of Merle’s shirts, yanking it on over his vest and uncaring if it was too hot for another layer of clothing.

Right now he feels vulnerable and if this helps then he’d use it to keep himself from stinking the place up with his omega scent and drawing attention to himself.

When Merle returns to the truck he’s far too grateful to be angry even if Merle does press their foreheads together in a silent apology. He takes it and sticks close as they move to their tent, set up on the edge of camp away from everyone else and he knows Merle did that for him. There’s stares as they move and he makes sure the bow is loaded, setting it to his side as they hunker down for the night and Merle promises they’ve got a decent perimeter and people on watch. He doesn’t care, right now he just needs his big brother and whatever illusion of safety he can give.

The floor is hard beneath them but he doesn’t care, burying himself in Merle’s neck and unable to stop himself from mewling a little as his brother scents him properly. He’s eager to respond, rubbing their faces together, smothering himself in the scent of alpha and baring his neck to Merle desperately. There’s a small sigh before Merle’s teeth bite down over his jugular, a quick pressure of a claiming bite before Merle pulls back to let him bury himself away again. He hadn’t needed to be claimed in years, but right now he was so on edge it’s about the only thing keeping him from bolting away from this pack and the danger they presented to him.

Rolling the hem of Merle’s shirt that he’s wearing between his fingers, he stays pressed into his brother’s neck all night, keening to be scented every so often and knowing that Merle can smell his fear when his brother doesn’t refuse at all. It’s not a lot, but it’s everything he’s got right now and he’ll cling to Merle like a lifeline if it’ll keep him safe from the monsters that haunt his nightmares.

Both the walkers and the pack they’ve had to join to survive.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Remember prompts for this verse are accepted :3


End file.
